


500 Words You Should Know: #498 Zealot

by jasbo



Series: Piffle, Tinkerty-Tonk, and a Rusty Plane [8]
Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Lord Peter Wimsey - Dorothy L. Sayers, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Backstairs Gossip, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff, Gen, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 16:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6086050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasbo/pseuds/jasbo





	500 Words You Should Know: #498 Zealot

#  zealot

[ **zel** -uh t]  noun

1. a person who shows zeal.

2. an excessively zealous person; fanatic.

 

Reginald Jeeves walked through the door of The Running Footman like a man removing a mask. Leaving the mien of the ever-correct “gentleman’s gentleman” on the pavement, his shoulders relaxed a bit and he smiled slightly at the barman who immediately began to draw him a pint.

“Evenin’ Reg.”

“Good evening, Matthew. Thank you,” he said, gratefully receiving the glass and taking a long swallow. Setting the pint down on the bar he glanced around the pub which was half full of familiar faces, but he was surprised to see one man that he did not know. “New fellow, Matthew?” He nodded at the stranger’s bald head and bland smile.

“Aussie bloke. Pleasant enough. In your line of work, actually.”

“That’s no surprise. Most men who patronize your establishment are in domestic service.”

“True. But we don’t get a lot of custom from the Colonies.”

The door swung open and another familiar face walked through, smiling when he saw the newcomer and raising a hand in greeting. He pointed at the bar, indicating he would get a drink before he joined the man, and proceeded over.

“Mervyn,” Reginald said, reaching out to shake hands with the latest arrival.

“Pint of lager, please Matthew,” Mervyn Bunter said. “How have you been keeping, Reginald?”

Smiling softly, Reginald said, “Oh, my charge has been in hot water again. Nothing new.”

Mervyn chuckled. “Engaged?”

“Almost. The Glossop female.”

“Again?”

“The problem has something of a revolving-door quality to it. But I trust that her father’s distaste for Mr. Wooster will persevere as a final deterrent.”

Mervyn took a pint from the barman with thanks and looked seriously at Reginald. “I wouldn’t count on it. That woman’s a force to be reckoned with. Lord Peter won’t go near her.”

“Mr. Wooster also had a decided preference for an Australian woman recently. But she seems immune to his… unique charm.”

Mervyn’s face lit up with a grin. “Miss Fisher?”

“You know the lady?”

“Never had the pleasure. But one hell of a coincidence – that man over there,” he nodded at the stranger. “Cousin of mine. Works for her.”

Reginald’s eyebrows lifted. “Really.”

“Truly. Come meet him.”

The two men lifted their glasses and walked over to the table, and the newcomer stood to greet them. “Reginald Jeeves, meet Tobias Butler.”

“A great pleasure,” Reginald said, shaking Tobias’ hand.

“G’day. Have a seat,” he said, waving at the empty chairs.

“So – you are cousins. Bunter/Butler, I take it your relationship is on the distaff side?” Reginald asked as he sat.

Tobias laughed. “Actually, no. But my less-than-honest ancestor was encouraged to change his name when he… emigrated to Australia. It was a short step from Bunter to Butler.”

“I understand you work for Miss Fisher,” Reginald said, sliding away from the implications of Tobias’ frank statement. He might relax in The Running Footman, but standards were still standards. Openly discussing one’s ancestor’s transportation for who only knew what crime was not something Reginald could countenance.

A broad grin spread on Tobias’ face. “I do indeed, Reginald.”

“A most… interesting lady.”

“Ah, you’ve met her then.” Tobias’ eyes twinkled and Reginald felt uncomfortably as if the man had more than a suspicion of their brief, intensely pleasurable association.

“I have,” he said repressively.

Mervyn leaned across the table. “Reginald’s a bit of a fanatic about propriety, Tobias. Don’t tease the man too much. His employer is a handful, but not in the same way you and I are used to.”

“Really?” Tobias’ pale eyes traveled from one man’s face to the other.

“Truly. You and I were blessed with intelligent employers. Reginald on the other hand…” Mervyn smiled slightly. “Rich idiot is probably the best thing one can say about him. Always getting into the most tedious messes. And not ones that can be cleaned up by drawing a hot bath and putting out clean undergarments.”

Tobias emptied his pint glass and stood. “I’m for another. Can I stand you two the next round?”

The two other men assented, with thanks. As Tobias walked over to the bar, Mervyn leaned forward and gently elbowed Reginald. “Something’s up here.”

Reginald considered. His friend’s noble employer was a private detective and curiosity was apparently contagious. “Let us just say I do not bandy the name of a lady in public.”

Mervyn settled back in his chair, grinning and glancing at Tobias. “Ah. I believe I see all.”

“And that is all we will say of the matter.”

“As you say, old friend. As you say.”


End file.
